


She Deserved So Much Better.

by ghettoassenglishman



Series: Take my hand--Take My Whole life too [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 5x03 spoilers, Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Mandy leaving, They are not happy about it, They talk about Mandy, kind of, shit at summaries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 05:58:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3238910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghettoassenglishman/pseuds/ghettoassenglishman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian jumped at his side suddenly, “So? What do you mean So?” Ian mocked Mickey's voice, before waiting for the smaller boy to answer; obviously he needed to explain more clearly. “If you are in love with someone its fucking scary to think it, never-mind saying it to their face!"</p><p>Mickey and Ian talk about Mandy leaving, and they are not happy about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Deserved So Much Better.

**Author's Note:**

> Herro, originally I was meant to post this in my "Take my hand--take my Whole life too" but it was being a bitch and not letting me add a chapter, so its in a separate not that matters anyway ahahahaha

 

Mandy was gone. His best friend, the one who was _always_ there for a shoulder to cry on, was not there. Not matter how hard, or how long, he had tried to at least talk some sense into her, she still left through that door with her bags packed. Heck, he _even_ ran home to beg Lip to talk to her, make her know that she was better than all that shit. Better than Kenyatta. No matter what they did he still managed to withhold his grip on her and pull her away from her _only_ safety _._

 

 

 

“We should of stopped her.” Is all Ian continued to repeat, as soon as the door closed with Mandy waving grievingly, he couldn't get that thought out of his head. Mickey hadn't spoken since she left, he seemed angry, the rivalling energy still radiating off him since his and Mandy's argument. Ian had managed to calm it down, he wanted them to both remember each other as _siblings,_ not fighters. They were always a team, Ian could see that, and now Mickey was one member down.

 

 

 

They were sat on the couch, the Tv running but not getting any attention. Mickey had been cradling the same beer for the past hour, something he didn't usually do but Ian knew instantly he was in a circling thought. Ian nearly jumped when Mickey finally spoke up. “We couldn't fucking do anything. No one could stop her, not even us. She is old enough to make her own decisions.” With one long gulp he finished his bottle. 

 

 

 

“If anyone was making the decisions it was _him,_ Mick. That fucker scared the shit out of her, we should of helped her get away from him.” Ian felt the never-ending guilt. That day he and Mickey found them together, Mandy still protecting his ass, they should of pulled her away, made it merely impossible for that fucker to touch her again. All he was worried about was his own shit he should of done something sooner. 

 

 

 

Mickey's fingers tightened around his empty bottle, trying not to think back to  _what_ they should of done, because he had failed her. His own sister; he had let her get beaten up over and over again, just like Terry would do. Fuck, he should of let Ian kill him when he had the chance. Maybe then, Mandy could have been annoying his ass like she always did. The house seemed silent now. “Well, we can't do anything. They are probably out of the fucking state by now.  _Fuck,_ we should of killed that fucker when we had the chance.” 

 

 

 

Ian's mind flashed back to the moment where he nearly lost full control. His hand gripping that knife, pointing it to Kenyattas throat. If only he had done it seconds before, maybe then, then he would be lying down with blood oozing from his neck. For a split moment, he wished Mickey wasn't there to stop him. Mandy would still be here if he had. “She deserved so much better.” Ian muttered to himself, knowing that now that is all he could think about. Mandy  _did_ deserve better, more than anyone. 

 

 

 

“Well I ain't saying she would of wanted a rich fuck with a wad of cash, but I guess you're right. It fucking sucks.” Mickey wasn't planning on telling Ian how he really felt about Mandy leaving. It was as if he had lost a limb, she was always there. Always there to kick his ass into shape, make him do better when originally he was a no-gooder. Without her he wouldn't have got Ian back onto his feet, without her he wouldn't have been able to look at his kid and not feel disgust. “It's a pile of shit, but Mandy is the strongest out of all of us; she won't let him take her to fuck down.” He wished that was true. 

 

 

 

“She told me something before she left, _without_ Kenyatta breathing down her neck.” Ian started, fully grasping Mickey's attention; Mandy hadn't really said anything before she left. Ian felt fragmented that even though he had tried so hard, and pushed so far, Mandy was still not there. It was hard enough speaking about her. “She told Lip she loved him.” 

 

 

 

Mickey brow furrowed deeply, he looked confused and he fucking  _was._ “Why the fuck was she with Lip, hasn't that asshole got his own girlfriend down at Ivy tower?” Last time Mickey had checked Lip was a college boy now, he had some upstate girlfriend and he nothing to do with Mandy. Hell, he hadn't even seen Lip  _talk_ to Mandy since he were back. 

 

 

 

Ian nodded his head slowly, as if it was the obvious answer. “ _Ivory”_ he corrected, a smile breaching on his lips but it closed off as soon as he saw Mickey's devious, yet death glare. “I told Lip to talk to her, its the only thing I could think of.” Ian had gone over a couple of idea's, even complementing Mickey's “lets bury the fucker in the yard” tactic, he had actually gathered a couple of weapons incase Kenyatta went full-blown riot and tried to kick their asses. Lip was the safest choice. 

 

 

 

“Lip? Seriously, why the fuck did you ask him for?” If anyone was a asshole, it was Lip. Even though, he did provide in helping the Gallagher's keep at their toes each week, he still fucked over Mandy; that would _always_ make him a dick, it didn't matter that it was Ian's brother. 

 

 

 

Ian shrugged at first, his mind trying to find a verified answer. The younger boy knew Mickey's tolerable friendship with his brother; they tolerated eachother, nodding in each others direction, biting back some sort of insults just for the sake of the other Gallagher's. “Mandy loved him, y'know? Wait, maybe you  _don't._ Mandy would always tell me that stuff. Lip was a asshole for sure but she still loved him.” he flickered his eyes up to Mickey, Mickey was a asshole; and maybe, yeh, he loved him. Well, he liked the way he smelt. 

 

 

 

“Well, if anything is better than that woman beater she's left with. Its pretty fucking clear Lip has failed.” Mickey bit back, his anger still there knowing he had just let his sister go. Let her go to get beat up, yet again. “If she loved him, why the fuck did she _still_ leave?” Love was still a touchy topic, he tried not to say the word too much. 

 

 

 

Ian sighed, rubbing his hand against the side of his mouth. Mickey had leant back against the couch, some-what relaxed. Ian followed his lead and led his hands astray, glancing back over to his boyfriend. “The fuckhead didn't say it back,  _fucking idiot he is.”_ Ian shook his head is disbelief, looking some-what ashamed. Lip could of at least said it back, let Mandy know there was still people who wanted her there,  _needed_ her there. 

 

 

 

“So?” Mickey shot back, raising an eyebrow to the over-sensitive Gallagher sat next to him. Words were not going to make his sister say; she was a stubborn little shit, she needed a bit more than that. Alot more than that. Well, that's what he thought. But apparently Ian's a fucking expert with this shit.

 

 

 

Ian jumped at his side suddenly, “So? What do you mean  _So?”_ Ian mocked Mickey's voice, before waiting for the smaller boy to answer; obviously he needed to explain more clearly. “If you are in love with someone its fucking scary to think it,  _nevermind_ saying it to their face. You wanna know why its so frightening?” Ian was on his ludicrous ramble once again.

 

 

 

“Not really, but I have a feeling you are going to tell me anyway.”

 

 

 

Ian shifted onto the edge of the seat, his face almost touching Mickey's in a way that didn't feel as uncomfortable anymore. “Its fucking scary because you don't want them to reject you. Lip didn't fucking say it back, Jesus, she probably felt so hurt she  _had_ to leave because any look at this place would just remind her of what she  _could_ have had.” After his ramble he breathed for a couple of seconds, trying to persuade Mickey to understand what he was trying to put across. 

 

 

 

“Why do you look into all of this shit?” He didn't mean to sound discarding, it just happened sometimes since he hadn't actually been like that in a while. Ian, however, didn't tend to notice it, he embraced it in a particular way. “Lets face it, even if he had said that bullshit she wouldn't of stayed.”

 

 

 

Ian pulled back a little, sighing as he looked at his fiddling hands. “Well, I guess I've had experience in that area.” With that, Mickey abruptly stood up, flipping Ian off in the process towards their room. He was tired of moping about his sister, it wasn't making anything better. Then Ian had to chuck that sly comment at him, as if it wouldn't hurt. Of course it fucking hurt, he was still regretting it now. 

 

 

 

Quickly, and roughly, he pulled off his clothes up until his boxes. Pulling back the blanket he coxed himself on the cold sheets and created his own cocoon to shield himself. What Gallagher didn't know, well he probably did, was that Mickey was fucking ashamed, angry, full-blown disappointed in himself that he couldn't save his sister from a life of beating and pure  _hatred._ Now, she was in another state, how the fuck could he protect her now? 

 

 

 

The door opened quietly, the light shredding through like a sleet of lightening. Mickey didn't have to pull his head out to know who it was; Well, it defiantly wasn't Mandy. Obviously, Ian would have followed directly. The redhead immediately stripped from his shirt and pants, slowly pulling himself under the covers still keeping his distant from the other boy. “Shit, I'm sorry Mick.” 

 

 

 

Mickey could feel the pure sorrowful voice, the one Ian always had when he was upset for hurting someone. Fuck, he would probably talk like that to a pigeon if he had to. Mickey pushed himself back a little, only to feel the warm of the taller boy. “Its fine. Go to sleep, Ian.” He wasn't in the mood for talking, not now. The guilt of his sister added with the mixed feelings about his pussy ways back then, it didn't create the best of recipes that was for sure. 

 

 

 

At first, he thought Ian would just nod and go to his own wits, but instead he felt the huge, warm hands wrap around his waist. It felt comforting, like some sort of hold that never let go, never let back. He didn't feel up to it, he didn't feel he should have it if Mandy didn't. Until Ian spoke the words he always did, ones that made everything seem less shit. “We're gonna get her back Mick. I promise, even if we do have to bury Kenyatta in the front yard.” 

 

 

 

Mickey snorted against his pillow, making sure he muffled it against the fabric. Ian's hand slowly made its way into his own and he would of protested if it didn't feel so  _safe._ “Just no grenades, a'right?” He felt Ian nod against his back, he sighed in relief because one less thing was better, overall. 

 

 

 

Later on that night, Ian was breathing slowly as he pretty much dreamed. Mickey had turned in his eyes and was now staring up at the ceiling. For some fucked up reason he couldn't get Ian's words out of his head.  _You don't want them to reject you. She had to leave because any look at this place would remind her of what she could have had._ Mickey gulped within himself, shit, he hadn't even said those words to Ian yet. It wasn't a plan he had been thinking of, at all. He always asumed Ian already knew, already felt it. By the look in Ian's eyes earlier he guessed that might be fractured. 

 

 

 

The thing was, Ian was right. Ian had left before because Mickey was too constipated with the deliverance of his words, and it made his rush with fear that that might happen again. Ian might notice how stiff and word frigid Mickey was and just leave. Leave else where because  _he didn't want to be reminded._ Mickey didn't want that, fuck no. If anything he wished that they could say forever. Maybe...maybe he could just try it. 

 

 

 

Ian was now led on his side, his face towards Mickey. He never looked so peaceful, his brows not crinkled and his lips slightly parted. Mickey took in a deep breath, bracing himself for what he was about to do. One finger trailed against the redheads cheekbone, falling down to his lips. Mickey pressed his owns against his collar bone, then moving it gently across his jaw-line. He felt his hand shake but he guessed that was normal,  _was it normal?_ His breath was hovering over Ian's and his heart raced like a bullet on a crash course. 

 

 

 

“I-I” He began to whisper, not sure whether Ian could hear through his dreams, probably. “I think I love _you._ ” His whisper was not drawn out, but audible for only him to hear. It felt different, like honey on his tongue. The word never mixed with him but suddenly it felt like velvet against his lips. “No, I think I know I do.” He did, but he didn't want to push himself further. Whispering was scary enough. 

 

 

 

First thing, nearly done, he just had to buck up the courage to tell Ian face to face,  _with his words in earshot and not when he's sleeping._

 

 

 

Next stop; Killing the fucker who took his sister and burying him a small mole-hole in the back yard. The front yard was packed already.

 


End file.
